


maybe it will break, and maybe it won't

by erintoknow



Series: Aria-Rough Drafts [17]
Category: Fallen Hero Series - Malin Rydén, Fallen Hero: Rebirth (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Mind Control, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, POV Female Character, POV Second Person, Trans Character, Trans Female Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-26 19:16:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20747378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erintoknow/pseuds/erintoknow
Summary: The Rangers are expecting you to help them find the culprit. You can't put this off forever.Kind of awkward that the culprit is you.





	1. Back when we started

**Author's Note:**

> title and chapter titles come from [[Long Division by How to Swim]](https://howtoswim.bandcamp.com/track/long-division)

You chew your cheek as you follow Ortega through the hallway, one hand fiddling with your sunglasses. Here we go, the day of reckoning. And lo, though you walk through the valley of death, but you shall fear no evil, because… you are the evil.

Or something.

Fuck.

Ortega stops and turns her head to check on you, offers an encouraging smile. “Thank you for doing this. I mean it.”

You keep your face placid, shrug your shoulders. “I’ll do what I can.”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I could think of any other way.”

You frown at that. The logic a little too familiar. “It’s… nice to be wanted, I guess.”

She looks at you again, shift your focus study the floor in front your feet. “Hey, I’ve missed you, you know?”

You don’t know what to say for that and so opt for ‘nothing,’ expecting Ortega to fill the silence like she always does. Instead the empty cord stretches out, the electric hum of machinery buzzing under your mind.

You step forward down the hall and it mercifully prompts Ortega to take the lead again. “So, uh, is–is, uh, Lady Argent ready?

“As much as she can be,” Ortega frowns, slowing her pace. “I hope this helps, even if you don’t find anything She’s been…”

“I can understand,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. Something heavy and painful squeezes your chest, your throat. “She’s been– been…”

“Is that what it felt like when–”

“I don’t want to talk about that.” You snap, you wrap your arms around yourself, hugging your sides as you shudder. You’ve never really thought this hard about what happens to someone after you finish possessing them. Now you are, and you can taste the bile in the back of your throat.

cables twisting around

the feet like

snakes in the grass.

red strings wrapped

around your wrists,

yanked tight,

your hand finds the dial

on the plasma caster’s power setting

“–felt it too, during that last mission.”

You blink, lost for a moment. “Who?”

Ortega gives you a look. “Chen?”

Oh.

Wait.

“What about the dampeners?”

Ortega shakes her head, “They overloaded.” She speeds up as she talks, “That’s why I got to you so late. It started to get to him too. Just about about managed to keep himself under control.”

Frown, “_How_?” How did Steel do what you couldn’t.

Ortega frowns, obviously not proud of herself. “I reminded him he was a soldier, you know? That his life wasn’t his anymore.”

Oh.

Your frown only deepens further. “Well good for him.”


	2. There were cells dividing

The walls are a friendlier color but as Ortega opens the door for you to step inside, you can’t help but note the similarity to an interrogation room. Glass pane into the hallway, single door in or out. Two chairs on opposite sides of a small square table. Light hanging down from a singular overhead lamp. You pull the halves of your jacket together with one hand as you sit down in the only unoccupied chair.

Ortega shuts the door behind her.

Lady Argent sits across from you, arms folded in front of her chest, leaning back, away from you, shoulders tense.Might as well try to ease into things…

You push up your sunglasses. No way in hell are you taking them off in here.“H–how are you doing, Lady Argent?”

She scowls at you. “Let’s just get on with this already. It’s been weeks.”

Try not to flinch, take a breath. In. Out. “Alright, well… close you eyes, if you could?”

She hunches up, glaring at you. “Why.” Damn, you’d swear she could see right though you. Suddenly, having Ortega standing in a corner doesn’t feel like sufficient protection. God, if you screw this up, you’ll be lucky if it only costs your life.

You try to smile, put your hands flat on your lap, gripping your skin through clothes so they won’t shake. “N–n–no sense turning this into a staring contest, right? It’ll be– it’ll be hard for us to focus if we’re all laughing.”

Argent snarls at you, and you flinch back in your seat. “This isn’t funny.”

Ortega steps forward from her corner towards the two of you. “Angie, it’s okay. Calm down. You can trust Ari.” You stomach twists at that last addition.

“I _am_ calm.” Argent huffs, scrunching up face. “Stay out of this Julia.” She turns her head back to you, staring you down. You give her a nervous smile and she shuts her eyes with another huff. “…should I be doing anything?”

There’s something deeply unsettling about how her the silver sheen of her skin reflects your own face back at you.

You bite your lip, “Just… be quiet. It’s been a long time since I’ve tried to do anything like this.” You lie, and you feel sick again for doing so. You need to pull yourself together fast or you cover-up job is going to be even worse at hiding your involvement then the original crime.

“Take your time, Ari.” Ortega’s voice feels like it’s coming from a thousand miles away as you close your own eyes.

It starts with skimming thoughts, like dipping your hand through a stream. It’s small – a child’s – yours or hers? Skimming the water fingers brushing pebbles and the water deepens, further and further as the blue of the reflected sky deepens and the wavering images of the forest drops away and you’re in the thick of it – immersed. The current grips your arm pulling you one way, your leg it yanks another.

The haze of blue blinding your perception gives way to metal spires mirrored in the sea. Constantly shifting, tilting, collapsing and rebuilding, the reflections out of sync. Memory of metal and sharpness. You pull your own song tight against you, pull yourself into the tiniest speck of a presence as you can manage. The long you’re here, the great a risk you take.

Pull yourself tight, plunge down into the depth of the labyrinth. You don’t have time to try to decipher the literal meaning of the metaphors being thrown at you. Get in, get out. Follow the thread. You were always good that at least.

Or you thought you were.

Wrong turn, and the mindscape melts around you into something else, a shadow of a room. Somewhere in the Rangers HQ? Ortega stands in front of you but you only know that by her shape and the memory. The figure before you is alive in pulsing coils of light like you’ve never seen her before.

You’re in Argent’s memory?

Oops.


	3. I was so disappointed in you

We can’t just pretend this never happened, Ortega pleads. You try to focus on her through Argent’s eyes. What is she wearing? A suit. White? When was this?

Yes we can, Argent snaps and your– her vision jerks around as she crosses her arms, scowls at Ortega.

Ortega, this unsettling superposition of glowing wires under human flesh. She gestures, leaving glowing trails with her hands. You know it doesn’t work that way. You’re–

A risk to the team. Argent snarls. A liability.

What’s that look for? Ortega frowns.

Argent’s vision darts between the pulsing in Ortega’s abdomen to her face. You sure I’m the _only_ liability here?

That is _not_ what we’re talking about.

Fine. But we will. Soon.

Ortega sighs. If that’s what it takes.

I just find her a bit creepy. You frown, drumming your hand against your elbow.

Angie! Ortega frowns, eyebrows furrowed.

You take a step back, What? Something about how she looks–

Just stop! Ortega raises her voice at you. She’s been through a lot and deserves some–

Huh. Arch a single eyebrow.

What!?

A smile curls your lip. Nothing, you lie. It’s just… funny.

What? What is? Ortega’s face heats up, an intensity of color.

You. Point a finger at her face. Are blushing.

She’s a friend. An old _friend_. Ortega is glaring daggers at you now.

You keep your smirk. Uh-huh.

Look, just, be civil to her okay? This isn’t her fault. Ortega’s words twist a knife in your heart as the memory warps and melts around you. It’s not your fault. This isn’t your fault. You’re just– you’re just trying to help right?

Cables, like snakes in the grass coil around you.

Sorry Chickadee, here comes the net.

You don’t even realize at first that anything’s wrong. You’re just walking down the street, enjoying the temporary respite from the constant throbbing pain in your bones. And then you don’t make the turn towards your house. You keep walking. Cross the street. Huh. That’s funny.

Must have been day-dreaming.

let your feet carry you to work by sheer reflex of memory there’s an itching in the back of your skull _inside_ behind one eye a pressure pushing down people screaming flash of green when did you get to the ranger’s building? that’s blocks away plug in the security code descend down, down into the vault no one questions you why? why can’t they see what’s wrong? you movement feels stiff yet light there’s someone else pulling the strings something speaks with your mouth to the security guard and it’s not you, not your words and then

you’re scanning a wall of boxes tracing lines of circuitry pry loose one cabinet take the box inside and something in your skin buzzes crawls hums as your fingers wrap around the box whatever asshole’s running you doesn’t pay any mind too drunk on their supposed victory but still you can’t move, can’t speak cable wires run through your bones pulled this way and that by something else

and fuck thank god there’s herald you useless man don’t just stand there smiling this isn’t you it’s not you, help do something a shock like lightning runs through you and your hand goes straight into herald’s smiling face knocking him off his feet goddamnit thats what you get why won’t you realize something is wrong danny _help me_

he says something as the you that isn’t you runs and you can’t hear it can’t process it your vision dark like you keep falling asleep have to force yourself awake but there’s nothing you can do nothing nothing nothing your own fists clumsily bludgeoning and he doesn’t understand doesn’t get it useless useless somebody help help please _why doesn’t somebody help you_


	4. I was so disappointed

You manage to yank yourself away before you impale yourself any further on the memory, an angry hissing red razor, a thousand different edges poking out in all directions. The water around it shimmers in a boiling haze.

Fuck.

Shit.

Goddamn.

That was bad.

You can’t afford time to process it right now. At least divorced from your body you don’t feel your usual reactions. No nausea. No tight throat. No panicked breathing. Clear your mind of all of it. Both your minds.

Focus on calm seas and desert plains.

Bit by bit the water colors, the edges dull, the shifting of the metal around you slows. You’ve made your job harder for yourself, but you’re not doomed yet. This’ll call for extra finesse. Dance from memory spike to memory spike, pull thoughts of home, wear the smell of baking bread like a cloak. Cast aside your jealousy pangs at her memories of family.

Memories aren’t recordings, it’s a performance, and one you can change. Touch the core of it again, gently, lightly, don’t get sucked in, scrub your give-aways drop little hints of something else.

No one’s heard from her in months, her picture plastering news reports. The innocent young woman, would-be vigilante. Where is she now? You don’t know, but Locus will make the perfect scapegoat. Strong enough to have plausibly done it. So long gone it’s unlikely the Rangers will ever find her and realize the ruse.

Paint her image into the crowd as Argent steps out of the therapy clinic. Purple on black skin, re-route your regret as coming from her:

It wasn’t your fault Argent. It wasn’t your fault. She had no other choice. It was nothing against you.

She’s sorry. She’s so, so sorry.


	5. maybe it will break and maybe it won't

You jerk awake in your own body to the room spinning around you, nausea churning at the back of your mouth. Someone’s hands pressing hard into your shoulders, holding you steady.

“Ariadne– Ari? You okay?”

You flinch, look up and try to focus your eyes. Ortega’s mouth is a tight frown, brows knitted together. What does she– Shouldn’t she be attending to Argent? Not you?

You cough, “I’m fine.” You rub your nose and groan, a line of red runs down your finger, across your hand. “Fuck. Got any tissues?”

“Yeah, yeah of course,” Ortega reaches into her back pocket pulling out a travel pack and handing the whole thing to you. You quickly shove a tissue up your noise and then wipe down your bloody hand.

“Thanks.” You glance over at Argent and flinch, there’s a slow boiling fury in her eyes. This is it. The moment of truth.

Argent spits out a name through clenched teeth. “Locus.” Her hands have curled into fists. “It was Locus. I _knew_ she couldn’t be trusted. No one is that nice.” She shoves her chair backward as she gets to her feet.

Ortega helps you up, “Are you sure it was her?”

“I am.” She pays a passing glance in your direction and your stomach flips. “Sorry about your friend there. But she managed to jog something at least. I saw her. I _saw_ her just before it all happened.”

You glance at Ortega as Argent paces the room, flexing her fingers which have sharped into razors. “She is up to something. I don’t know what. Forced? _Sorry_?” Her voice drops into an unnerving growl. “She’ll pay. No one does something like that to me and walks away.” drums her hands –lethal pinpricks– against her hips, quivering in rage.

You feel sick, watching her.

There’s… There’s no way she’ll actually _find_ Locus, right?


	6. And maybe things can get better again

“You should go tell Chen while it’s still fresh in your head.” Ortega puts an arm around your shoulder, holding you up, and you let her. Your body pressing into hers. You still feel dizzy. Was she always this tall? You didn’t shrink in the past seven years did you? “I’ll make sure Ari’s okay here.”

Argent flexes her hands, brushes back her hair in a dramatic flourish. “We finally have a lead.” She marches out the room, slamming the door hard enough behind her to make you jump.

Ortega frowns as she looks at you. “Are you alright, Ari? You look awful.”

You worm your way free of her and narrow your eyes, hold up the wad of tissues with one hand as you pinch the bridge of your nose. “I’m fine. Stop worrying so much.” It’s not _you_ she should worry about.

“If you say so. Let me just clean up a bit before we head out.”

You lean back against the wall of the room as you watch Ortega fuss about the room. When she turns back to you, there’s a chocolate bar in her hands. “I know it’s not a milkshake, but I figured you would want a pick-me-up.”

You eyes widen at her, “W–where the– the heck were you hiding this?” You take the bar from her, hold it in one hand while you check if your nose is still bleeding with the other. Satisfied you at least won’t bleed over the chocolate you rip the wrapper open and bite down on an edge; let it melt in your mouth.

“I know how you get when you do something big like this.”

You close your eyes, slump against the wall. For a moment it’s like the past seven years haven’t happened. It’s just you and Julia, de-stressing after some death-defying battle. Allies again. Friends. But– “You never used to be _this_ thoughtful.”

“Things change.”

“I guess.”

The taste of copper mixes with the taste of chocolate.

You can hear Ortega shift and you open your eyes and now she’s sitting in one of the chairs, turned it so she can face you. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You almost want to laugh. Instead you shrug, fold the wrapper back up and toss the candy bar to the table. “No.”

Ortega meets your gaze and you have to look away again. “It can’t hurt.”

You toss the bloodied tissue into the trash bin by the door. Rim shot, 2 points. Pull out another tissue and wad it up there. “You aren’t–” You stop yourself, wince. Try again, “you aren’t the one with the scars.”

Fuck. You don’t deserve her sympathy. If she knew the truth about you… Not even just about what you are any more. It’s what you’ve done. What you’re going to do. You’re going to have to think hard about this. About how far you’re willing to go.

Do you _really_ need to blow up a whole building just to take out some dumb exhibit? Maybe…

“Ari… none of us got out of there in one piece.”

You tense up, “Y–you _know_ what I mean.” What is her deal? Why does she care so damn much?

“Maybe, but…” Ortega trails off as she stands up again, she hesitates, a half step towards you. God. She’s really trying isn’t she. This isn’t an act. It isn’t a scheme to get you to slip up. _Fuck._ All this effort… you don’t deserve a second of it.

You don’t deserve to be here. You shouldn’t have done this. Ortega’s yanked your corpse out of the ground and now all the maggots have gone running for cover. Maybe Chen and Ortega _don’t_ hate you. But now they will. What you’ve already done here.

But you can’t stop. It’s this or dying or worse. You or the Directive.

You step towards her, duck your head towards the side and pull her into a hug. It takes her a second to register and then her arms clap tight against your back, pulling you against her, holding you a littler harder, and little longer than appropriate.

Eventually you have to pull away from her. You cough, “I’ve.. um, m-missed you too.” You can feel your face heat up as say it.

Ortega’s face lights up, a grin spreading wide across her face, and she’s acting _way_ too excited over some dumb hug.

You step away from her before she can hug you again. Try to scowl to keep from smiling back. “D–don’t– don’t get carried away now.”


End file.
